Category: Travels

I find walking a very relaxing pastime, I can think, watch the world, plan.

The Royal Borough of Kingston upon Thames where I live, or really I live in a area called Norbiton, dates back over a thousand years.

The original coronation stone where they crowned seven Saxon Kings of England is here, thus Kings Stone. From 8th June 900 until 979, Edward the Elder, Athelsen, Edmund, Edred, Edwy, Edward the Martyr, and Ethelred II the Unready, are said to have used this stone to be crowned. Near the stone is the bridge Clattern Bridge, its’ name probably derived from the word clatter when the horses and carts crossed it centuries ago.

The Coronation Stone, the Kings Stone

Boats on the River Thames in Kingston upon Thames

There River Thames flows through the town, not as wide or as busy as the Bosphorus in Istanbul, and the bridge is not as large, but there are boats to see and lots of swans and other water fowl.

Eating out in Kingston upon Thames

The Market Square Kingston upon Thames

People enjoy the street cafés and restaurants, relaxing and chatting, pity I must watch what I eat now.

The Old Market Hall Kingston upon Thames

The fruit and veg market, Kingston upon Thames

The old town square and has a statue of Queen Victoria in gold “leaf” high on the Old Market Hall building, and another statue marking the work of the Mayor of Kingston Henry Shrubsole who died in 1880. Market traders sell their fresh fruit and vegetables, but they seem to have a wider range of stock than that I saw last week in Kadikoy. People enjoy a snack and coffee whilst a new water fountain plays in the background.

Traffic free shopping in Kingston upon Thames

Out of Order by David Mach

Old London Road, Kingston upon Thames

I suppose we also have our own Taxim Hill, the pedestrian only shopping area, but one thing old we have that you will not have are the phone boxes named Out of Order by David Mach. I think a good way to use unwanted old telephone boxes in Old London Road.

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Read what I found out about the history of Norbiton Hall. (click here).                                                    index

An early start to a return home to the UK.

It has been a long journey this trip to Turkey. There has been many frustrations, many long hours often in front of participants from 9am till 7pm, with half an hours lunch break, there have been things that have not gone well, or have caused me problems, but there has been even more good times.

I must concentrate on the good times, if you dwell on the bad, that is how you see your journey through life.

I have had good courses, there could have been more participants, but that is always the case We want more of what we love.

The translators are good. I did not have to concern myself on if the participants understanding me, my complicated language patterns are understood and translated as such. If my translators do not understand, it is my fault, and they can ask for more information, and I get visual, verbal feedback from the participants as we progress through the course together.

More companies want courses from me. That includes re booking by the Turkcell division Global Communications, I must be doing something right. We have had more meetings with prospective companies.

I sing to myself. I FEEL GOOD.

Here in the airport, as I look out of the departure lounge window, the sun is just coming up over the horizon, big and red, in a sky that is changing from a black to a light blue. The cold night air should be replaced soon by a warm day in Istanbul. I trust the tourists have a good day, it is something I do not do, see the sights.

My usual travel pattern is to fly to the country in which the course is being held on the morning or night before, and either leaving straight after the course or the next morning to fly back to the UK. This means I have no problems with jet lag, I just get on with it.

A tip I got from a Virgin Airways captain to overcome jet lag, or perhaps say not to experience it, is to adjust the time on your watch to the tome of the destination country before you board the aircraft, therefore your brain has already adjusted to the new time zone. It works.

Try it you it you might like it.

I am watching the various travelers here. As I approached emigration or passport control, I notice two large parties of travelers, one about thirty Japanese holiday makers, and another thirty Turkish Muslims I would expect going to attend their Hajj.

My luck had changed. I got into the queue waiting to get my passport stamped just before the other travelers got there, but suffered as we edged our way forward to the passport officers booths, the woman behind me was oblivious to the fact she was thrusting her over sized over weight hand luggage into my back and legs.

Why do people insist on carrying this handheld stuff, they struggle to get it into the overhead lockers, they leave it there all the flight, and struggle to get it down on landing. Put it in the hold.  

Whist waiting for the fight to be announced I start this entry of the blog, but nature called, and I go for a pee pee. I then find that I had forgotten to zip my trouser flies, no wonder people looked at me strangely.

My mind struggled with the fact that I had walked through a busy airport with those sixty plus travelers with my flies undone. I swore to myself, and not just “Oh Poo Poo”.

We have to stop this internal voice hat makes us suffer, feel bad, insecure. Treat it the same way it is treating us.

I was very rude to it. I cannot write what I said to that internal voice. It was bad.

It soon shut-up. I began to laugh at myself. At least I had woken a few people up at this early hour, given them a laugh.

But why had not someone said something to me?

Sometimes we do not tell people the truth, or we wait until the last moment to give a message.

Give ourselves and others chance to reconcile and sort issues out at an early stage.

Talk.

Visit I am falling apart article.

Today is a down day.

Everyone should be allowed sometime space to dwell in their own thoughts, to review their life, to review their plans for the future.

Near to the office/school every Tuesday and Friday, there is held a very large market or bazaar. I had not been to this place in all my visits, and I needed to clear my head, relax, to think about the future, which directions should I follow.

I love markets, for here, you see life of the locals living a natural life, going about their daily routines.

Near Cuscu and Lake Titicaca, we were taken to a small town off the tourist trail on the market day. All the women wore the traditional dress, selling food, fresh vegetables, cloth and general goods. 

Our tour members had been “on the road” touring and visiting various places as we traveled from Lima in the north to The Nazca Lines in the south, and we wore typical Western tourist clothes, cameras at the ready, but we were told categorically not to take any photographs, as this was not in and against the culture of the people.

As we wondered through the market, it was us the tourists who were out of place, the aliens, the locals looked at us as we were the odd ones, as if they had never seen Western people before.

I found it exciting to reach out to the people, to communicate with them without the spoken language, and yet be understood, as they wanted contact with me.

Language has never been a barrier, it is just that we misunderstand.

I admire the translators I have worked with, as I have no other language other than English, how do they do the translation? I in my small world cannot comprehend how one can think and process information in another language. Oh the poor education system in the UK when I was at school.

I understand the structure of the English language, but do not ask me about verbs, adverbs etc, I speak English naturally I am a native speaker, the structure is unconscious, implicit. Other languages are structured differently, the word sequence is different, and there are many different meanings for an English word in a foreign language.

We often get a participant who “speaks” or has knowledge of English, say that the translation is wrong, when I know that it is not as I have worked with the translator many times and know their work.

I walked around the local Kadikoy/Istanbul market/bazaar, watching the shoppers, the sellers or stall holders, watch the interaction. I observed the reaction of all, as I walked amongst them, for I look different I am told, I look British, I listen to the stall holders trying to attract my attention, first in Turkish, but getting no reply, trying in English.

Do I look that British?

The fruit and vegetable stall holders take pride in their displays, polishing the apples until they shine, cutting off the dead leaves from the cabbage, stacking the oranges and lemons like the walls of the many palaces that abound in Turkey straight and regimented.

Clothes, dresses, knitwear hang from ropes strung between the stalls, very Turkish styles, perhaps Islamic, yes there is a style that can be seen, not seen in the large shopping centres which cater for the fashion conscious, and seem to be more very Western. Many shops you would find on the British High Street you will find here, Marks and Spencer, Next, Debenhams, Top Shop, all are here.

I lost myself in the market for an hour, with the strong wind playing and pulling at the sheets of plastic they had strung up above the market, it was about to rain, not spending any money, not emptying my mind, but filling it with new experiences which will be used I am sure in future courses.   

I still have no resolve to my thoughts.